


you wanna be friends forever (i can think of something better)

by twoeyedqueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/F, Female Harry Potter, Female Tom Riddle, Gen, Good Slytherins, Hogwarts Era, No Dark Lord, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Slytherin Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14196642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoeyedqueen/pseuds/twoeyedqueen
Summary: In another world, Harry Potter and Tom Riddle were born in the same time. And eventually, they fell in love. This is moments of their story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't sleep and started this haha. They're girls because I'm a girl and projection. I wanted to write a Hogwarts that felt like a small school.
> 
> Anyway, the title stolen from Hayley Kiyoko's Sleepover.

In another world, Harry Potter sat in her compartment with Neville Longbottom and his friend Hannah Abbott. Harry had known Neville all her 11 years of life, and through him Hannah. Hannah was clutching Trevor tightly while Neville cast longing gazes in the general direction of his parents. Harry stroked Hedwig.

A red-headed boy glanced into their compartment, saw two girls before the boy, and continued on his way. He briefly regretted that choice as, in the end, he was forced to sit alone with a young girl. Ron made introductions, and awkward conversation was held with Tom Riddle.

 

“Potter, Harriet!” McGonagall called, and Harry made her way to the stool. A short argument and a “are you sure you want to argue with an age old hat about where you belong?” settled her in “Slytherin!”

“Riddle, Tamsin!” was called two names later. She approached the hat with confidence, and it knew that “Slytherin!” was the only place for her. Tom sat to the right of Harry, sparing her a small smile before turning her attention back to the hat.

After “Zabini, Blaise!” made his way to their table, Harry allowed herself to grin and began making introductions and small talk. Draco Malfoy never paid her any mind; Draco was content with conversing with the other some ones. A half-blood Potter girl didn’t make the cut.

 

The first day of classes was enlightening for Harry. The first day lectures were refreshing, calming her nerves, and letting her determination shine. She found herself sitting beside Lily Moon, who she approached with an introduction of her own middle name.

Small things remain constant no matter who one is. McGonagall would always lecture and ensure each and every student would take notes on a subject before attempting a practical. Flitwick would take a more relaxed approach, and would always make his class as fun as a school subject could be.

Severus Snape would always call upon Harry Potter in an attempt to humiliate the child of James Potter.

“Potter,” he said, interrupting the uncomfortable silence. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”  
Harry stared, her ears burning. Her eyes were drawn to the frantic waving of Hermione Granger, her desperation to be called. 

“I don’t know, sir,” she admitted, her fingers tightening. Neville gave her a sympathetic glance. Her father briefed the two of them about the history between her professor and her family, but she hadn’t expected obvious bias.

He sneered before asking another question. A few hands floated to the top at this one. Most people who grew up in wizarding families knew that a bezoar could be found in

“The stomach of a goat, sir,” she replied. Granger’s hand fell, her disappointed painted clearly on her face. Harry struggled to keep her face impassive.

Snape stared at her, fire in his eyes before looking away abruptly and demanding to know why they weren’t taking notes. Tracey Davis giggled at that, looking between Tom’s lazy grasp of her quill and Snape’s disgusted face. Harry and Neville shared another glance, this one being a grin.

Dean Thomas snickered at that, causing Gryffindor to lose their first point, and the class continued.

 

When lunch came, Lily decided to switch her morning and night supplies, leaving Harry alone in the Great Hall. She was too far into the Hall to turn back and walk with Neville, who seemed to be following a step behind Dean and Seamus. Hannah was already sitting, deep in a conversation with Susan Bones, her hands flying. A quick glance around the hall confirmed no one was eating outside their tables, so Harry continued her slow walk to the Slytherin table.

Most first years were quiet, with the notable exception being Malfoy. He took control of the conversation, talking loudly about their Potions class and the rowdy Gryffindors with Theodore Nott. Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass exchanged a look and laughed, leaving Harry sitting with Tracey and Millicent Bulstrode, each glancing at the other.

“Thank Merlin for Professor Snape,” Malfoy said, his gaze fixating on the three of them. Harry looked away.

Millicent scooped rice onto her plate. “I don’t know about the lot of you, but Professor Snape seemed kinda horrible,” she said in a rush. 

Tracey’s face softened into a smile. “Definitely. Like he just attacked you, Harry!”  
“Ugh, it was completely unjustified too,” Millicent added. 

Harry smiled and shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it, but yeah, he’s pretty horrible.”

“Snape?” an upperclassman interrupted. The three of them nodded. “Yeah, his bias is ridiculous.”

“You gotta talk about your life with him,” another added.

“Or be rich and a pureblood,” someone else joined in. 

“And the way he teaches,” he groaned. The group of them continued complaining, ranting about happenings throughout their years.

“I would’ve thought he’d like me because I’m a Slytherin,” Harry said, thumbing a grape. “But no, he just had to spring that on me.” 

Tracey covered her face. “Can we talk about literally anything else? Please? I don’t wanna think about Snape while eating.”

Millicent laughed, looked up, and nudged Harry. Harry looked up and slid to make room. Tom sat in emptied space. She grabbed a few snacks and fingered them, looking steadfastly ahead. Harry shrugged and attempted to start another conversation. It didn’t work out, leaving the four of them to dine in an awkward silence.

 

The afternoon classes moved quickly, which turned to a blurred week, with everyone shuffling about the maze of stairs and attempting to make friends (not allies, friends). Well, almost everyone. Malfoy was quite happy with his group, with each of them having known each other for many years. Vincent Crabbe appeared to be attempting to branch out to Ernie Macmillan and his small lot of housemates with the aid of chocolate frog cards. Ernie wasn’t interested.

Ron Weasley appeared to be begging his siblings to help “tell them ‘bout what’s happened around here, yeah?” They ended up with a large audience of first year boys, each leaving the session with a new resolve to stir up a bit of mayhem. Just a tad. A small tad that couldn’t get them in trouble. They were only first years after all; it would be pathetic to get expelled at 11.

Granger could be seen behind a small stack of books at all times.Well, more like a small mound of bushy hair could be spotted around pages and pages of work. She seemed to be in a constant state of stress.

“She’s sorta a mess,” Neville remarked as the they watched her frantically scratch out a paragraph on her scroll. “Lavender said she hadn’t even tried talking to them.” 

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Padma said Parvati tried reaching out to her, but she just shut them down because she had to revise her essay for Binns.”

“For Binns?” Harry laughed. “Who puts in effort for Binns?”

“Exactly!” Hannah exclaimed. “I can’t even tell if she enjoys the work or not.”

“She complains about it all the time,” Neville groaned. “I haven’t heard her talk about anything else yet.” 

Harry dipped her quill in ink, adding a flower to her notes. “It’s more pathetic than getting expelled as a first year,” she muttered, laughing at Hannah’s “Harry!”

Then there was the issue of Tamsin Riddle. She didn’t have an air of superiority around her, but something about her made their fellow Slytherins stay away. It wasn’t that they’d ignore her. Daphne seemed desperate to befriend her, always offering to “fix up those robes, I know just the spell” and dragging her around the castle with a whined “please, Tom, please!”

The difference between Tom and her classmates was made clear the first day they got to cast magic in class. It was a quiet day in Transfiguration, with every student studying McGonagall’s wand movements intensely. They all wanted to be the first to succeed, whether it was to beat that Granger girl who got her needle to be silvery or to show up a sibling who they’re better than, damnit, or just to prove themselves.

Slytherins didn’t have the highest self-worth that year. (Yes, even Malfoy. What, did you think him flaunting his wealth wasn’t a thin veiled plead of “I am worth something more” and I need someone to confirm it?)

And then they got to practice. The desks were in a semicircle that day, with almost every student eyeing each other nervously when McGonagall said to begin. Malfoy was the first to try, and with that the floodgates opened.

Except Tom. She just breathed deeply, her concentration unwavering. She gave her wand an experimental flick, watching her needle start to become silver. Her lips pursed. And she tried again.

“Tom, can you help me,” Daphne whined. Pansy scowled, her grip tightening on her wand before she set to try again. A small fire started, causing the pair of them to yelp.

Tom smiled, looking back at her needle with satisfaction. She kicked her legs, rocking them back and forth while she examined the room. Tracey noticed this and nudged Millicent, who looked up at her. Tom smiled sweetly.

“Wait, you did it?” Lily exclaimed. Of course, her shout occurred while the noise level of the room died down. Tom’s expression flickered between annoyance and pride before giving her a small nod.

McGonagall swept across the room to her, picking up the needle and studying it closely. “Never in all my years,” she whispered. She placed it down, scribbled a quick note, and formed a fire in her fireplace. 

The students watched her, talking amongst themselves, no one bothering to try anymore. Daphne was pulling Tom’s arm, showering her “dear” with praises. Harry and Blaise Zabini made eye contact, blushed, and turned to their own friends to marvel about how she did it. Malfoy just looked annoyed, muttering to Gregory Goyle about how “he could’ve done it too” and it “wasn’t all that special.”

“She must’ve practiced it before,” Goyle said, patting Malfoy’s shoulder reassuringly.

“The mudblood?” he hissed quietly. “No, she just got lucky!”

Harry and Blaise sighed in usion, made eye contact for a second time, and looked toward Tom. McGonagall had finished her message, said something to Tom, and then glared at the class. “One of you did it, I expect at least one more before the class ends,” she declared. The class blinked back at her. “Well?” her glare intensified, causing someone to shriek. Thus the students continued their lesson, slightly more aware of Tamsin Riddle.

Word got around quickly, leaving Granger to complain to Lisa Turpin about how it’s completely unfair.

“I can’t stand people who are just naturally good at things,” she grumbled, slamming her book shut. She pulled out a match. “I can only make it somewhat pointy, really, after a full hour of practice and Riddle just gets it right on her first try?”

Sophie Rodger gave a small “I know!” of encouragement. “It’s so discouraging when someone can just do something you’ve worked so hard at.”

Turpin nodded. “First try, utterly ridiculous.”

Of course, it wasn’t Tom’s first try. It was her second, but the Hogwarts rumor mill didn’t care about accuracy. It cared for gossip and excitement, and a prodigy entering was very exciting for the lower years.

Harry groaned the fifth time someone recounted the story during dinner. “First time, second time, either way she’s a genius,” she complained. “If we’re gonna gossip right in front of her, can we at least have some accuracy?” 

Blaise laughed, nudging Lily. “I just want to know what McGonagall wrote.”

“She told me to meet with Headmaster Dumbledore; I’m assuming the note was to alert him to the fact,” Tom said, her voice carrying throughout the table. Everyone paused to look at her. She primly cut a piece of meat, chewing it slowly.

“I’m sorry you’re getting punished for being good at magic,” Theodore said solemnly. “A visit to the Headmaster’s office so early in?”

“It’s tragic!” Daphne declared, resting her head on Pansy’s shoulder. “We should stage a revolt!”

Tracey looked between the two of them. “That’s a quick escalation,” she noted. “What did the headmaster do to you lot?”

“He’s known to be a bit anti-Slytherin,” an eavesdropping second year explained.

“My father always said that he was just horrid at being impartial,” Malfoy agreed.

“That’s nice and all, but I’m pretty sure they were exaggerating,” Millicent said.

Pansy scoffed. “Obviously not! Didn’t you hear that Dunbar girl during flying? How the headmaster hadn’t made a Slytherin a Head since the 40s?”  
Harry frowned. “Why was that even a conversation topic?”

“And we can’t rebel– think of the points we’d lose!” Goyle said, looking around the table. Someone laughed at that, but Crabbe nodded in agreement. The rest of the group quieted down after that, watching Tom leave the table.

“Why’s she so graceful?” Pansy complained. Daphne rolled her eyes and the conversation started up once more.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s rather interesting how an event can remain the only noteworthy topic of conversation for weeks, especially when that event was a trip to the Headmaster’s office and the Quidditch season had just started. Considering it wasn’t a spark of a revolution,

 

“It just doesn’t make sense?” Harry said, glaring at Tom. Neville sent her a look. Harry looked down, ashamed. “But you know I’m right.”

 

Hannah sighed, resting her head on her palm. “Yes, Harry, we get it. We need something new to talk about.”

 

Neville nudged a textbook toward her. She ignored it, choosing instead to close her eyes. “Do you think she’s been back since?”

 

“I honestly couldn’t care less,” Harry muttered, scratching out a word on her page. “She’s a natural genius, go her.”

 

Hannah let out a small laugh and adjusted her hands. “You could always start something if you’re _that_ bored.”

 

“I can’t afford to be bored,” she said, frowning at the parchment in front of her. “Too much work.”

 

Neville looked between the two of them. “Sorry, Harry, but regardless of what you think, I want to know if Tom Riddle lives in a posh mansion and is descended from Morgana.”

 

Hannah kicked him at that, and Harry began to pack her things.

 

“What? I heard Runcorn say Li heard that–”

 

Harry stood up, pulling Hannah up with her. “We don’t deserve this.” Hannah nodded, shoving her books into her bag. She turned to look at Neville. “Why don’t you ask Tom? She’s right over there.”

 

Neville looked over just in time to see a stressed student shoving a startled Granger and a pissed Riddle to the ground, grabbing a stack of books, and sitting down. Another student followed her, holding a crumpled paper. He gave an apologetic look to them before plopping himself on the floor, shaking.

 

With a whispered “what the hell” and a pitying look, Neville finished packing. Hannah quickly followed. Harry gave the students one last look. Tom met her gaze, an indifferent expression gracing her face. She raised her eyebrows. Harry turned and left.

 

 

Astronomy classes at Hogwarts varied greatly from teacher to teacher. Professor Rose went in depth about maths and went on tangents about topics that could almost relate to his daughter. Professor Batton refused to teach maths beyond basic algebra, instead assigning a prep book for any potential maths question a student might have. Professor Stupp would require students to learn what would be used before each class, spending class time on practicals.

 

It was a well known fact that Professor Sinistra obsessively demanded charting. Charting, charting, and only charting. She didn’t go in depth about ‘why’s or ‘how’s; those were for you to figure out and analyze after you finished your charting.

 

Harry forced herself to keep walking up the flight of stairs. Lily darted up the steps in threes, spinning around to look at her friend every few steps. Her expression remained playful, and her body refused to become winded from the journey.

 

“It’s not much of a journey,” Lily said, matter-of-factly. She smiled sweetly, tilting her head. “Do you need me to carry your things?”

 

Harry groaned. “Let me be weak in peace.” She took a deep breath before starting a sprint. Lily paused her stride, then laughed.

 

The two made it to the door’s latch, Harry panting heavily. Lily only needed a moment for recovery, something she decided to mention each time they took the trip. Of course, Harry could only muster up the energy to respond with a glare.

 

A quick scan of the room revealed they weren’t the last to arrive– that honor resided solely within Ron. He had a talent for arriving moments before the professor walked in, much to Snape’s vexation.

 

“You can’t lose points if you aren’t breaking rules,” Ron said, tapping his head.

 

“Two points from Gryffindor for blatant disrespect of our rules,” Snape said, silencing the laughter.

 

Yet Ron had not arrived early to another non-Potions class, as no one genuinely cared besides Snape.

 

Harry was still breathing heavily, leaning on Lily for support. Tracey sent her worried looks, alerting Millicent to her pitiful physique. Lily lead her to them, bright smiles and soft eyes abound.

 

Pansy and Daphne took notice. They left Malfoy’s circle of praise (“he’s a Black, of course he knows the stars!”) and joined them.

 

Pansy made a face of disgust. “Can Draco dearest shut up about himself for a second?” she asked, sending a look in their direction. “‘Look at me, I know astronomy!’”

 

Daphne giggled. “‘I’m better than that mudblood here!’” she added, twirling a strand of her hair. “Self-studying and practice who?”

 

Harry and Tracey shared an uncomfortable look. Harry groaned, looking around for an escape. The room had divided itself into boys and girls, effectively isolating Harry from Neville unless she was willing to endure a round of  “Neville and Harry, sitting in a tree!” Harry decided it wasn’t worth it.

 

Hannah was sitting on a desk beside Susan and Tom, kicking her legs happily. Tom was watching them, interjecting sporadically with an opinion on their subject: maths. Tom didn’t meet either of their eyes; instead, she observed the proceedings around the room. Harry averted her gaze.

 

Then Ron, Seamus, and Dean burst into the room, effectively startling everyone into a flurry of movement, everyone trying to look presentable in reasonable positions. Hannah slunk of the top of her desk, sliding into a chair with Susan. Tom occupied the other.

 

Professor Sinistra followed shortly, raising a brow at the attentive class; she had not caught on to Ron’s talented timing. Ron’s face still flushed.

 

Sinistra began with an evaluation of their notes on their telescopes. Malfoy whispered loudly about his “endless knowledge” on astronomy, Theodore egging him on. Sinistra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering just loudly enough for the Slytherin boys to hear about how she “wished there was a way to strike, by Morgana.”

 

“Alright, almost all of you have done what was asked of you,” she said, looking meaningfully at Wayne Hopkins, Stephen Cornfoot, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Wayne grinned back, laughing with Stephen. Pink dusted Justin’s cheeks, and he looked down.

 

“Are we actually using our telescopes today?” Turpin called out, waving her notes. “If they don’t have their notes we can share?”

 

Sinistra considered for a moment, before agreeing with a reluctant “yes.” Of course, that meant noise erupted and quite a few “I’m not working with a _Hufflepuff_ / _Slytherin_!” So Sinistra declared students in different houses must work together, leaving a fuming Malfoy and Macmillan to share a telescope.

 

“At least you know something,” Draco acquiesced. “I could’ve been stuck with Riddle or some other–” he caught his tongue, “less knowledgeable partner.”

 

Ernie nodded, disdainfully eyeing the classroom. “It certainly could’ve been worse.” They shared a glance of mutual disgust, grimacing.

 

Strong friendships can be formed from many things. The shared trauma of fighting a troll in a bathroom can be a quick start to a long-lasting friendship. A stuttered compliment about someone’s appearance can force one. But spite and rants about a situation has to be one of the easiest ways for two people to bond.

 

Ernie Macmillan and Draco Malfoy weren’t the only two to experience this that day. Anthony Goldstein, Vincent Crabbe, and Justin Finch-Fletchley were the unfortunate leftovers, each only having friends in their own house. As a group, they weren’t the best matched.

 

“Of course I get stuck with the brute,” Justin said, squinting at Crabbe’s notes. “What the hell does this even say?”

 

Vincent clenched his fists. “If you could read–”

 

“If you could write–”

 

Anthony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just use my notes?” he suggested. The two stopped to glare at him before Crabbe snatched them from him. Justin began to set up their telescope.

 

Sinistra clapped her hands, once then twice, effectively grabbing the students’ attention. “We’re starting with the Plough,” she announced, distributing parchment for graphs. “You can play with your telescopes for a bit, in a manner which is allotted in accordance to your notes, but the last fifteen minutes are for finding and sketching the Plough.” She paused, surveying the room. “Understand?” Most students nodded, with one “Yes, Professor!” shouted. She decided that was good enough.”

 

Anthony dipped his quill in ink, sketching a circle to the best of his ability. Vincent and Justin looked at it, to each other, and back to it.

 

“How’d you do that?” Justin demanded.

 

Anthony ignored him and reached for the telescope. Justin’s fists shook, and he leaned back against his chair, observing the room. He and Crabbe took to complaining about “that Goldstein,” taking turns glaring at the boy.  
  
“Does he realize we’re supposed to share it?” Vincent said, kicking the table the three of them sat at. Anthony spared a second to glare right back before turning to his work.

 

Justin rolled his eyes. “He would’nt know anything even if his knocker shared it every morning.” Crabbe laughed, no longer looking to Draco and Gregory, content with his new companion.

 

Harry and Neville weren’t as lucky. Neville was approached by Oliver Rivers when he noticed Neville looking around the class in a slight panic. Harry waved at him, before turning to Hannah to pair with her. Except Hannah was already with Tom, Hannah giving her an apologetic smile.

 

Harry did try to pair with someone she somewhat knew, but she fell into the same trap most Hogwarts students did: she had one (1) close friend outside of her house. Her eyes kept falling back to Hannah and Tom, watching the pair set up and discuss the happenings of the class. Hannah was trying to comfort Tom, as Malfoy wasn’t the quietest boy, but Tom was steadily getting more annoyed.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” she gritted out, squeezing the telescope stand. “I’m _over_ it.”

 

“Are you sure? He’s always been a bit of a jerk, but that was cruel,” Hannah replied, ignoring Tom’s disinterest in reassuring words.

 

She steadied her breathing and fixed the stand. “I’m sure.”

 

“Alright, just checking. But if you aren’t good or–”

 

Harry tuned her out then. It was a shame she wasn’t partnered with Hannah; she would’ve appreciated the effort she was making to calm her.

 

Emma Vane interrupted her thoughts with a tap on the shoulder. “Do you need a partner?” she asked, gesturing to her table. Parvati Patil was there, sleeping. “We need a non-Gryffindor.”

 

Harry nodded absently, following Emma back to the table. There, she shook Parvati awake, resulting in a groan and spilled ink.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she exclaimed, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean, I–”

 

Emma’s smile dimmed. “It’s fine, we have my notes.” Harry glanced from Emma’s notes to her own. Her face flushed. “You can go over them now if you’d like.” Harry verbalized her agreement, running her fingers through her hair.

 

Parvati went back to napping. Emma placed her spare lenses in a case, and began fiddling with the nobs. She made a self satisfied nod when it focused, and she began to move it around wildly. Harry could only watch, glancing to Professor Sinistra frequently.

 

Crabbe’s laugh caught her attention. “Very cunning, Fletchley,” he said. She could almost see his sneer.

 

Justin grinned back. Ernie and Draco took a moment to watch their respective friends. Justin and Vincent quieted down, glancing between Sinistra and Tom. Lily and Sue Li shared a worried look.

 

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” Justin whispered, discreetly aiming at the bag of lenses. Tom and Hannah were unaware, both fighting for a view through the glass. Justin nudges his hand, shooting it into their inkwells.

 

“Emma!” Harry called. “We’ve got to do something.”

 

Emma took a moment to glare at her. “I’m sure our prodigy can handle this herself.”

 

Harry blinked in confusion, opening her mouth to retort, when Lily _screamed_.

 

The class turned to look at her, causing a few more shrieks. She was drenched in blood, huddled on the floor. Glass shards littered the floor around her, and her arm was at an unnatural angle. Beside her were Sue Li, horrified and angry, Hannah Abbott, shaking, holding Tom’s arm, and Tamsin Riddle.

 

Riddle’s body was frozen, staring at the wreck that was Lily. Her head was bent, her expression unreadable.

 

“Everyone out!” Sinistra shouted, waving her wand. “Five points from each house until someone can explain what happened.”

 

The students of Hogwarts were many things, but of the few who noticed something was amiss, none of them were snitches. So with a pit in her stomach, Harry left the room with the others, clutching Hannah’s hand tightly.

 

 

Although the students may not be snitches, gossip was still rampant. Considering Lily Moon was one of theirs, the first year Slytherin girls unanimously agreed to sit on their dorm floor to discuss what had happened.

 

Well, almost unanimously. Tom’s curtains remained closed, leaving the others to add Tom to their list of people to be worried for.

 

“Are you all alright?” Daphne asked. She had her head resting on Pansy’s lap, her eyes fluttering while Pansy brushed her hair.

 

Everyone murmured their ‘okay’s, leading Tracey to groan. “I just don’t understand what happened. How’d she get hurt with a _telescope_?” Her tone lead to hesitante giggles which  were silenced very quickly.

 

“This is so awkward,” muttered Pansy. Daphne laughed properly at that, effectively killing the somber atmosphere.

 

“Ugh, there’s no way I can sleep though,” complained Millicent. “If the lot of you can, I don’t even know what to say.”

 

“Shut the hell up and let me be,” whined Daphne. “Pomfrey’ll just wave her wand and she’ll be fine.”

 

“Then where is she?” Tracey challenged. “If all it took was a wave of her wand, why isn’t she here yet?”

 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Because it’s late and she needs rest? Every witch knows that.”

 

“Oh, every witch knows that it takes a minute and a nap to heal any injury?”

 

“I mean, Neville was fixed up pretty quickly,” Harry interjected.

 

Tracey glared at her. “He missed the rest of the flying lesson. And he wasn’t back for lunch. How’s that quickly?”

 

Daphne pushed herself up. “Don’t go complaining about time because your methods take months.”

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Millicent asked, frowning. “Lily just looks worse.”

 

Tracey nodded, fixing her glare on Daphne. “At least I have confidence in what I know.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Harry stared, watching their dorm dissolve into chaos. “I’m going to check on Tom!” she shouted, silencing everyone.

 

Tracey stood up. “Who does Riddle think she is anyway? Going to sleep and not explaining shit?”

 

Daphne pursed her lips. Pansy shrugged and whispered something to Daphne, causing Daphne to sigh.

 

Harry forced the curtains open, startling Tom. Tom gasped, sitting up, hearing shouts and–

 

Harry’s fall to the floor, her hands pressed to her forehead, effectively stopped Tracey and Pansy in their tracks. Blood trickled beneath her hands, and everyone turned to look at Riddle.

 

Tom Riddle sat in her bed, her face expressing nothing, her eyes fixated on Harry. The silence was deafening as each girl waited for Harry to get back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what happened, the class wasn't supposed to be that long. Let me know what you think?

**Author's Note:**

> It's gonna be a real slow burn if I finish this. Still haven't decided on major conflicts and the pacing is going to be pretty wack, but I hope it's a fun fluffy ride!


End file.
